Let Go
by Phoenix33
Summary: It's the 6th year and Harry's Auror comes to attend Hogwart's after Voldemort's rise. Aurors are supposed to protect you from the Dark Arts right? But Harry soon finds out that with his Auror, it's the other way around...
1. Sweet Sixteen?

****

Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned in this chapter (except for Emily and her family) do not belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling, the greatest author of my time... 

****

A/N: This chapter is basically the prologue. The idea is mine, but the concept somewhat resembles the beginning of Goblet of Fire. (which also belongs to J.K..) So, yeah... On with the story. This is my first attempt at anything fanfic, so don't hurt me if it's not that great. Thanks for your time and enjoy. 

*all things in italics are Emily's thoughts

*the thing in {} and italics is a flashback

****

Let Go

Chapter 1: 

Sweet Sixteen?

"... Happy Birthday, dear Emily. Happy Birthday to you." They ended the infamous song with loud claps and hoots.

"Now blow out your candles!" The enthusiastic 6-year old looked up at his sister and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Emily, who had just turned 16, deeply inhaled and blew out, making her cheeks puff out and mouth form a little "o". Her family clapped and hooted again, making her blush. Her mother disappeared into the kitchen and returned holding a large knife.

"Alright." She waved the knife in the air. "Who wants cake?"

"I do! I do!" said the little boy, jumping up and down. At the moment, he somewhat resembled a kangaroo. Emily laughed.

"Alicia, do you really think it's wise to give such a hyperactive child cake?" Emily's dad said, voice full of concern.

Alicia shrugged. "Sure, Rupert." She cut into the cake. "Why shouldn't I?"

Rupert looked at his bouncing son and sighed. "Fine. But you can deal with the consequences at his bedtime."

"Here you go, Matt." Emily handed her little brother a piece of freshly cut cake and ruffled his hair. "Don't make a mess." He swatted her hand away, mouth frowning and full of chocolate cake. "I won't..." She smiled warmly at him, then her parents. _'Life is good.' _

Her dad picked up a piece for himself. "What are you smiling at?" Emily snapped out of her daze and shook her head. "Just thinking." 

"Yeah. Probably about some boy or what-not." She threw a napkin at him, but he was too fast. "You see, Emily, you're a teenager." He took a bite of his cake and waved his fork in the air. "Teenagers aren't supposed to smile, or laugh, or have any fun whatsoever. Your only job is to whine and complain about frivolous things and to piss your parents off by rebelling against us when we ground you for something illegal that you've done." He took another bite. "Like stealing a car." He pointed his fork at her. "Or getting 'jiggy' with some boy." 

"Dad, nobody says 'jiggy' anymore. Besides, you know damn well I've never done any of that stuff." He nodded. "That's true." She shrugged. "You and mum are always telling me that I'm not a normal teenager. So, why can't I just live up to the description?"

Rupert put his hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay. Point taken."

Her mom handed her a piece of cake and sat down. "What were you thinking about anyway, dear?" 

Emily smiled again. "You guys." Alicia raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Us?" "Yeah. And how lucky I am to have you as my family."

"No need to suck up now." Her father, now standing behind her, grabbed her playfully by the hair, making her lean back. "We already got you a car." 

Emily smiled. "I know, but I figured some accessories for it couldn't hurt." He kissed her forehead, then released her hair. "Dream on, Pumpkin."

She put on a look of mock surprise. "I wasn't sucking up." Her parents and Matt looked up from their cake and gave her a look that said "Yeah. Right."

"Whatever. You guys should feel special." She took a bite of her own cake. "There's no shame in loving your family. Even if you are a whiny, rebellious teenager."

"Awww." Her mother wiped away a fake tear. "We love you too, Emily." Her family crowded around her in a little circle. Rupert looked childishly at her and yelled. "Group hug!" Emily, underneath the entanglement of arms, let out a smothered giggle.

"See, I knew you guys did. And for that, I also want to say thank you." Rupert pulled back a little. "For what?" She shrugged. "Well, if it wasn't for ya'll, my family, I would probably be dead right now."

****

BOOM!

The far right wall imploded. Emily and her family were thrown back and separated. Emily to one side of the dining room, her family to the other. The remains of the crumbling wall were flying passed her, scratching her now dusty face. One fragment hit her mouth, cutting her lip. 

She looked towards the spot where the dining room wall had once been and saw about five people standing there in a somewhat triangular formation, their faces were hidden beneath their black hoods. It didn't matter though. Emily knew who they were. Death-eaters.

A noise, like nails on a chalkboard, suddenly washed over them. The scratching seemed to grow louder as the Death-eaters entered the house. Emily screamed, covering her ears, her head feeling like it might explode, every inch of her body throbbing with bouts of pain. She saw her family, across the room, doing the same. After what felt like an eternity, the scratching seized and the room fell in silence again.

Emily, terrified and confused, tried to scramble, on all fours, towards her family. Halfway there, however, she was cut off as the cloaked men swished passed her, stopping in front of her family. A thin, raspy voice broke the silence.

"Stupid muggles." The man at the front of the triangle kicked Rupert's leg in disgust. Emily could see her dad wince in pain. The front Death-eater turned to his left. "Kill them!"

"No!" Emily jumped to her feet and tried to push passed the men.

The man to the left raised his wand and a brilliant green light shot out from its tip. Emily shut her eyes, but could still hear the anguished cries of her family. She opened them again, her body still pressing against the men, but she was too late. Her family, the very thing Emily wanted more than anything else and worked so hard to obtain, was gone, obliterated in a matter of seconds.

She stopped trying to fight her way through the triangle of Death-eaters and slumped to the ground. She sat there, too stunned to say anything, the tears brimming her almond-shaped eyes. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"You bastards." She got up again slowly, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her. She steadied herself on the leg of the overturned dining table and wiped the blood from her cut lip. Clearing her throat, she could feel the nausea creeping up, but she managed to swallow it back down. She spoke again, her yells of fury bouncing off the walls. "You fucking bastards!" The Death-eaters turned around, finally acknowledging her presence. Her fists were clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her jaw was set, her face twisted in a menacing stare.

"I'll kill you all!" Her tears of anger mingled with the dust on her face, making it even more dirty. "I swear to God I will!" She lunged at the front man, her fist headed towards his face. He caught her wrist, effortlessly, and spun her roughly around.

"Will you now?" His face was close to hers, his nose nuzzling the back of her head, and she could feel his hot breath on her ear. He snickered. "With what, dear Emily?" Emily realized she was unarmed. Her wand was sitting on her dresser, untouched and covered in a thin layer of dust. _'Damn it.' _

She snickered. "I'd kill you with my bare hands if I had to." 

She struggled against his locking embrace, causing him to tighten his grip. A small "Oh" escaped from her lips. Emily's hand behind her back was so close to her neck that she could probably turn her head and kiss it if she wanted to. (A/N: If it were that close, it probably would've popped out of it's socket. But eh, oh well...) 

"Feisty, are we?" The other Death-eaters scoffed behind them. Her captor lowered his head and gently kissed her neck. She couldn't see his face, but could tell he was smiling. "Feisty like a little kitty cat." Emily's eyes widened in shock, her free hand went up to cover her gaping mouth. "Oh my god." _'Only one person's ever called me that.' _She gulped.

"Peter? Peter Pettigrew?" He pulled down his hood and kissed her neck again. "The one and only." "You slimy little git. You aren't dead yet?" "Of course not, you silly girl." He loosened his grip a little. "With me working as the master's servant, I am invincible." She let out a small snicker. "Don't worry, Peter. You'll get your comeuppance." 

He released her with a sudden push and she fell to the floor with a gasp. He leaned down and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "My master has waited such a long time, kitty cat." She looked at him, flabbergasted. "What?" He nodded, his index finger trailing down her neck, and stopping on her collar bone. "No...n-not...yo..your m-master..." She stuttered. "Yes." He smirked, cocking his head to the side. "You remember him don't you, kitty cat?" He tapped his finger against her collar bone. "And what he did?" 

__

{{The green flash lit up the room as it hit her. "Lily! No!" She stumbled over to the fallen woman, avoiding the overturned crib, the tears brimming her eyes. She knelt down, taking Lily's hand in hers, and held it affectionately against her cheek. "Don't go." She held back a sob. "Please don't leave me." The woman drew in a deep breath, and gripped her hand lightly. "I have to." The young girl shook her head. "No..." Lily nodded. "It is my time." She coughed, blood staining her pale lips a deep crimson. Her eyes started to droop, her breathing becoming more shallow. "No! Come back! Lily!" It took some effort, but the dying woman opened her eyes again. "You're going to have to let go, darling. Just let go." Lily smiled warmly up at her, then turned her attention to the baby crying helplessly on the floor. "Take good care of him, okay?" The girl nodded, releasing Lily's hand. Lily closed her eyes, her head slumping back, the last breath of life leaving her body.}}

A single tear fell from Emily's widened eye. Peter brushed it gently away. "Yeah. Unfortunately I do remember." He laughed. "Amazing. After all, it's been what... 16, 17 years since you last saw Vol- er... my master." She continued to stare at him, angry, as he stood up and looked down on her. "He will be very pleased to hear of your capture, Emily." He gave her a swift kick to her lower abdomen. She coughed, holding her stomach, and turned towards him, the anger flashing in her eyes. She wiped her bloody lip again, smirking.

"You haven't caught me yet, you pathetic rat." 

He smiled, stepping back, his wand raised. "I'm sorry to hear that, kitty cat."

****

BANG!

A thick, black cord shot out from the end of his wand and wrapped itself around Emily's ankles, then wrists, and finally her mouth. She was completely immobile, lying somewhat dazed on the floor. He looked down at her and laughed. "You were saying." He turned to the rest of the group, who were standing back, watching intently. "Take this disgraceful display of a witch out of my sight and straight to You-Know-Who."

Emily tried to wiggle backwards, but was only able to move an inch or so. (A/N: How far can you get when your tied up and lying on your back? Ooh wait, that sounds naughty...) One of the men grabbed the band around her ankles, another one by her wrists. Seized by her restraints, she was lifted upward. Emily felt like a pig on a stick, rotating over a huge fire. She swayed from side to side, her body rocking underneath their grips. _'Uh oh.' _She felt something tickling inside her nose. _'Not now.' _She wrinkled it to try and stop the soon-to-be sneeze. The feeling disappeared and she let out an inward sigh of relief. _'No sneeze. Thank goodness.' _

****

ACHOO!

_'Never mind.' _By some miracle act of God, the binds holding her captive vanished and Emily fell to the floor with a loud thump. She looked at her free hands in amazement. "Cool." She quickly flipped over on her stomach and tried to crawl through their legs. She could feel their hands trying to recapture her. She punched and kicked, struggling to break free. They grabbed her by the back of the shirt and lifted her up again. 

"No! Let go of me!" They ignored her pleas and continued to carry her, bloody and screaming, through the missing dining room wall. Her screaming got louder as the sound of nails on a chalkboard took over the room again. One of the Death-eaters placed a strong hand over her mouth, but Emily bit down, causing him to pull back in pain. She freed her right hand from one of their grips and tried desperately to grasp onto something, anything to help her, but got nothing but useless air.

You know if one listened carefully, they could probably hear bits of the warning Emily was shouting to an unknown person.

"Watch out... been captured...Voldemort...could die...safety... reunited soon... don't worry..."

The last thing Emily screamed before she was engulfed by the black night, her hand still outstretched, was his name.

And that name was Harry.

***************************************************************************

Harry Potter sat up in bed, sweat dripping down his face, his usually messy hair sticking flat to his head. His lightning shaped scar was burning painfully above his right eye. He reached up and gingerly touched it.

"Some dream..." He whispered into his empty bedroom. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It sounded more like a frustrated sigh than a relaxing breath. He was obviously confused, bits of the dream still playing in his head.

"Why me? Why my name?" He paused. "Why now?"

He looked over at his bedside clock, the red numbers casting an eerie glow upon his tired face. 3:37. He had been 16 for exactly 3 hours and 37 minutes.

"Well, happy birthday to me, I guess." He scanned his moonlit room, his green eyes falling on Hedwig's cage. She was sleeping soundly within, her snow white head tucked beneath an equally white wing. He remembered how happy he had been when Hagrid gave it to him for his 11th birthday. Harry smiled.

"Yeah. Happy birthday to me." He lay back down, the bed springs creaking beneath his weight, and pulled the blankets over his chest. 

Still smiling, he closed his eyes. "To me and Emily both."

A/N: So, did you like it?! Sorry if it was a bit too long. Please R/R (flames are welcome) so I know if this story's worth continuing. (And for those of you who care, I've already got chpt. 2 ready to go, so it's all up to you guys.) Thanks!


	2. Welcome to Hogwart's

****

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter! (The lucky J.K. Rowling does...)

****

A/N: Okay, here's chapter 2! Yeah! Hope you enjoy it (and if not, just pretend that you did!) This one's not as long as the first one (I don't think) but it's somewhat lengthy. Ok, you can stop reading this now. On with the story!!

*Everything in italics are Sheila's thoughts

****

Let Go

Chapter 2:

Welcome to Hogwarts

"Sebastian, let go!" Sheila pulled (with much effort) her black tie away from the grips of her frisky cat's mouth and looked at the scarlet train looming ahead. She sighed and looked down at the cat standing beside her. "So this is it, 'ay Sebastian?" The cat, who was staring hungrily at her tie, blinked and cocked its head to one side. "Meow." She nodded. "I agree. 'Twas a bitter end for a new beginning." "Meow." She sighed again and, grabbing the handle for balance, stepped onto the platform leading into one of the train's many cars. "Some comfort you are." She said, walking towards an empty compartment. Sebastian, the creature with a one-word vocabulary, following close behind.

The Hogwart's Express let out a shrill whistle as the huge station clock struck 11:00. Sheila looked, absentmindedly, out the window, her chin resting on her palm. The train whistled again, signaling the beginning of the journey, before lurching forward. She whispered a silent prayer, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. As the train began to pick up speed, she saw a flash of black and red hair streak passed her window as two boys, exhausted and breathless, ran by, school robes flowing behind them. She smiled, laughing at their inability to be punctual. Taking in a deep, yet relaxing, breath, she tore her eyes away from the window and peered around the empty compartment. 

She saw Sebastian curled up in the corner of her seat, sleeping and occasionally letting out a content purr. "Your no fun." She said, patting the tabby cat lightly on its sleeping head, before letting her hand fall beneath her seat. She pulled her carry-on out and set it on her lap. Unhooking the clasps, she peered in and pulled out a silver photo frame. It was a picture of her and her family standing outside the gates of the Audubon Zoo. _'My 12th birthday.' _She smiled, although her eyes were full of grief and anger. Blinking back her oncoming tears, she carefully tucked the frame back under her neatly folded clothes.

The compartment door suddenly swung open and Sheila jumped up, her suitcase clattering to the floor. She dropped to her knees, frantically trying to get the spilled contents back into the carry-on. She felt someone drop down in front of her, trying to help clean the mess. 

"I'm terribly sorry. I thought this compartment was empty." "It's okay." "Are you sure?" Sheila looked up and her gaze was met by a pair of hazel eyes. They belonged to a girl who looked about her age, her young face framed by her brown, untamed hair, her mouth curled in a pleasant smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. I was just a bit startled, that's all." The girl picked up the last item, a book, and stood up, slowly. Sheila saw they were about the same height as well and following suit, brushed herself off, and slid the closed suitcase back into its respectful spot under her seat. The girl glanced at the book in her hand and grinned.

"Hogwarts, A History." She handed the book to Sheila. "My favorite." Sheila smiled. "Mine too." She set the book next to Sebastian, who was still sleeping, despite the noise. Sheila sat down and gestured to the empty seat across from her. The girl accepted with a smile, placing her own suitcase under the seat. "My name's Sheila, by the way." She held out her hand. The girl took her hand and shook it. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger. Is this your first year at Hogwart's?" She asked. 

Sheila nodded. "I had to transfer after my school back in America was shut down." "Oh. Your American?" "Yeah." "That's odd." "What is?" "Nothing. It's just," She paused. "you have a British accent." Sheila smiled. "Oh, that's only because I was born here in England, Surrey actually, but after my mum and dad died, I was sent to live with my grandparents in America." "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Sheila shook her head. "Don't be. I spent the best 16 years of my life over there." 

****

A few hours of awkward silence later....

"I think the first thing I'm going to do when I arrive at Hogwart's is find the library." Sheila said. She was staring at the ceiling, a perplexed look upon her face. "Do you like to read?" Hermione asked. Sheila blinked, her eyes slowly trailing from the ceiling-downward, until she was looking at her. "Are you kidding me?" She paused. "I love to read!" Hermione let out a sigh of relief and grinned. "Me too." "Yeah?" Hermione nodded her head. "Oh, yeah."

The rest of the train ride was spent in relaxation. The two newly found friends sat, surrounded by candy wrappers and empty Bertie Bott's boxes, chatting and laughing about the three B's. Books, beauty, and most important of all, boys. 

"So, you mean to tell me Moody turned him into a ferret and started bouncing him up and down the hallway?!" Hermione, who was on the floor clutching her stomach, nodded, her face screwed up in laughter. Sheila soon joined her on the floor, their giggles echoing in the hollow compartment. "I would've given anything to see that!" Hermione wiped away a tear and chuckled, halfheartedly. 

"You know Malfoy?" "Unfortunately." Sheila said, biting off a chocolate frog's head. Hermione popped a pumpkin shaped pastry in her mouth. "How?" "Hermione, when your as corruptive as the Malfoy's, someone's bound to know who you are." Sheila looked at Hermione again, and they both burst into a fit of laughter again.

A couple of minutes later, they heard the brakes squeal beneath them as the train started to slow down. Hermione got up from her spot on the cluttered floor and looked out the window. "We're here." They both gathered their things quickly, so they wouldn't get caught up in the mad rush of people, and exited the compartment. 

Sheila stepped off the train, the wind whipping back her long, raven colored hair, and breathed in, her eyes twinkling with anticipation as she took in the sight before her. It was of a huge stone castle surrounded by a clear lake. The stars from above made the picture perfect image shimmer and glisten. "It's beautiful." Sheila whispered. "It is, isn't it?" Hermione said, stepping down beside her. She held out her arms, opening them in a dramatic sort of sweep and looked at Sheila. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

*********************************************************************************

Harry and Ron stepped off the train, their luggage clunking down the steps behind them. "So this Emily girl," Ron clutched his side, wheezing. He wiped his sweat soaked forehead with the back of his robe's long sleeve. "she called out **_your_** name in the dream?" "Yeah. It was so weird. I mean, I've never seen that girl before in my life, but here she was, this ghostly manifestation haunting my dreams, telling me to watch out and that we'd be reunited soon." "That is weird, Harry. Maybe you should tell Dumbledore about it." "Nah, Ron. It's no big deal." 

Ron shrugged. "Hey, if you say so." He paused. "Harry, I have a question." Harry looked at him. "What that's?" Ron grinned. "Was she hot?" Harry nudged him in the stomach with his elbow. Ron stumbled a little, chuckling. "What?"

Such a typical question for a not-so-typical pair of teenage boys. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were no longer the puberty deprived boys they were last year. In fact, they had grown a lot over the summer. (Although in saying this, I mean their height, not their maturity...) 

Ron's hair wasn't as red as it used to be. He was taller than Harry, but more slender. His freckles seemed to have multiplied, sprinkling across his nose and cheeks. His voice deep and smooth, great for cooing at the girl's that passed by, waving and giggling.

Harry, after countless hours of Quidditch practices and games, wasn't skinny anymore., his toned muscles showing through his gray sweater. His black hair was still a mess, accentuating his chiseled, tanned face perfectly. The wind breezed passed, causing a few strands to fall over his bright green eyes.

Harry turned to Ron, sidestepping a few tree roots as they headed down the hill towards the horseless carriages that were waiting to take them to Hogwart's. "Have you seen Hermione anywhere?" Ron shook his head. "Nope." "You sure?" Ron stopped, and turned to face Harry, who was looking at him curiously. "Harry, come on. Even in this crowd, how could you miss her big bushy head?" 

"Yeah, Harry. How could you miss my **_big_**,.... **_bushy_**....**_head_**?" The voice paused after each of the 3 last words, emphasizing its sarcasm. The boys turned to see who had spoken and saw an angry girl hanging out a nearby carriage window, facing them. "Hermione!" They cried in unison and ran to the window. 

"Hello boys." She drawled. "Hey. How have you been?" Harry asked. "Oh. My big, bushy head and I are just fine." She glared at Ron, who turned his head, blushing. _'You know for someone who's about my size, which isn't that big, she sure acts touch.' _Sheila thought from her seat within the carriage. 

As if reading her mind, Hermione turned to her and said. "You have to be if you wanna survive at this school. Especially if you get sorted into Gryffindor." Sheila looked up from Sebastian, who was nipping at her tie again from his place in her lap. "And why is that?" Hermione sneered. "One word." She said, her voice dripping with disgust. "Slytherins."

"Who you talking to?" Hermione turned her attention back to the boys. "My new friend." Harry grinned, mischievously. "Well, do you and your new friend have room for two young, handsome men in your carriage?" Hermione cocked her right eyebrow. "Sure. When you **_boys_** find two young, handsome **_men_** send them straight to us." Sheila giggled. 

"So, you say you've got a new friend, eh?" Ron said, changing the subject, his fingers drumming on his chin. "Is she hot?" Hermione let out a 'hmph'. "Come see for yourself." Ron grabbed the door handle eagerly and swung it open. He had just put his foot on the first step when Sheila's head popped up in the doorway. She waved. "Hello." 

Ron took her hand and gently kissed it. "Hey there, gorgeous. My name's Ronald Weasley. What's yours?" Sheila looked at Hermione (who was laughing at her over-eager best friend), and then back at Ron. She could see Harry's green eyes, peering over Ron's shoulder, widen in shock. "Well, my name is-"

Suddenly, Ron felt someone grab his cloak hood and pull him forcefully back. He lost his footing and fell to the ground below. "Harry! Have you gone completely nutters?! You just ruined the moment!" "Ron, that girl was in my dream!!" Ron looked at Sheila, grinning, and sheepishly waved. She waved back, giggling. "She is pretty cute, isn't she?" He looked at Harry, his mouth set in a devilish grin. "You horny little bastard, you." He got up and dusted himself off. Harry grabbed his shoulders and shook him. 

"Will you get serious and listen to me?!" Ron straightened up and cleared his throat. "Sorry. You were saying." "That girl is the exact same girl that was in my dream I had on my birthday!" Ron looked at him, confused, then turned and pointed at Sheila, who was listening intently. "Harry, you mean to tell me that's-" 

"Yes, Ron." Harry turned him around again, his panicky eyes searching Ron's face. "That's exactly what I'm telling you." Ron stared back, still confused. Hesitating, Harry sighed. "That girl is Emily." Ron's blue eyes widened and they both turned to stare at "Hermione's new friend". Sheila stared back, the flirtatious nature she had about her was gone, replaced by nothing but fear and puzzlement.

****

A/N: Ooh, a cliffhanger! You'll find that I'll be doing that with a lot of my chapters. Don't know why... guess it's just more fun that way! Anyways, you know what to do now. Review! (or you can click the back button and not review, you lazy bum!) J/K!


	3. The New DADA Teacher

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... not yet anyway...

****

A/N: This chapter is brought to you by my boring Trigonometry class! *gives thumbs up* Thanks Mrs. Arledge! To me, this is the chapter where it all starts. Hope you enjoy!

****

Let Go

Chapter 3:

The New DADA Teacher

Ron, much to Harry's disapproval, instantly took a liking to Sheila, just as Hermione had on the train ride. Even though he hated to admit it, Harry couldn't help but become intrigued by Sheila's positive attitude and bubbly sense of humor, something he and his friends really needed right now, (with Voldemort on the rise and everything.) By keen observation, he also noticed that her hair, which reached the bottom of her shoulder blades, was streaked with bits of blood-red and curled slightly at the bottom. She wore no make-up, except for a tinge of pink lip gloss on her small yet full lips, and her bright, green eyes matched the color of his. _'Ron was right. She is cute...' _Hermione's light-hearted giggle sliced through his thoughts. 

Ron, noticing that Harry was being very quiet, looked over at him. He saw that Harry was glaring daggers at Sheila, his arms crossed over his chest and an annoyed expression was on his face. Harry felt someone staring at him and looked up to see that it was Ron. Cocking his head to one side, Ron mouthed "What's wrong?" and Harry, giving him a fake smile in return, shook his head. Ron shrugged and Harry turned away from him, gazing out the window. _'Traitor.'_ He thought miserably, as the carriage precariously continued its journey towards Hogwart's. 

***************************************************************************

Ron, Hermione, and Sheila skipped, hand-in-hand, down the corridor leading to the Great Hall, their laughter and footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Harry shuffled along behind them, pouting. Ron stopped just outside the massive double doors and the two girls, chatting excitedly about books (again), walked in without giving him a second glance. A couple of long minutes later, Harry was standing next to Ron. He sighed.

"So, she isn't Emily. That doesn't make you entirely wrong." "Yes it does, Ron. Did you see the way she looked at me when I pointed at her and cried out 'Emily!'?... God, I feel so stupid..." Ron gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Let it go, Harry." Harry sighed again, his solemn face turning to look at Ron. "I can't. There's something very odd about her." He paused. "And I'm going to find out what it is." Ron placed his hand on the faded brass handle of the door. "Come on. We're already late." With a pout still on Harry's face, Ron pulled open the creaky door and they entered the Great Hall.

"Ron! Harry! Over here!" Sheila was gesturing to two empty seats across from her and Hermione. Ron sat parallel to Hermione, Harry parallel to Sheila. Hermione looked at Ron, concern etched on her face. "You guys missed the ceremony. What were you doing out there?" Ron cast a sidelong glance at Harry, and shook his head. "Nothing." She gave him a half-smile. (A/N: Can you do that?... eh, you can now...) "Ok." She said, not wanting to push it. "Well, I've got good news." Ron took a sip of pumpkin juice and set his goblet down. "What's that?" "Sheila got sorted into Gryffindor." "Oh great." Harry mumbled. They turned to look at him.

Sheila, who was sitting there quietly, leaned across the table and placed her clasped hands casually on her empty plate. "Harry, are you okay?" Harry looked up from his lap. "Never better. Why?" He snapped. A look of surprise, caused by their friend's sudden rudeness, fluttered across Hermione and Ron's faces as they watched the other two attentively. Sheila shook her head, making a few tendrils of black hair escape from her ponytail and fall into her face. She nervously tucked it behind her ear. Harry stared callously into her almond-shaped eyes. She stared back for a moment then blinked, her gaze wandering shyly to her hands. "No reason."

Ron and Hermione were still looking at Harry. _'I wonder what his problem is?' _Hermione thought. "Ummm... congratulations on making Gryffindor, Sheila." Sheila smiled warily at Ron. "Thanks."

A soft clinking of silverware against glass rang out across the expansive hall, silencing the uproar of the enthusiastic students. Sheila looked up and saw a woman sitting at the front table, holding her goblet in one hand and a fork in the other. "Your attention, please." Hermione saw the puzzled expression on Sheila's face. "Professor McGonagall. Transfiguration." She whispered to Sheila, who nodded in return. A man with a long, white beard stood up and turned to Professor McGonagall. "Thank you, Minerva."

"Good evening." He smiled, his attention returning to the sea of young faces staring back at him. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster here at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would like to extend a special welcome to our first years." He smiled. "I hope your stay here will be most enjoyable. As for the rest of you," Pausing, he looked around the room, his eyes bright behind his half-moon glasses. They swept the room twice before landing directly on Sheila. "it's so nice to see you again." Sheila smiled warmly at him. He clapped his hands, their eye contact breaking.

"Now there are a few things I need to take care of before we begin the feast." He licked his lips, pondering his next sentence. "First order of business. Please remember that the forbidden forest is off limits. Hence the name." He shook his finger, like a father who was scolding his child would. "So I better not catch any of you wandering around in there." He looked at Hermione, Ron, and Harry, his eyebrow arched. Blushing with embarrassment, they turned away from him, suddenly becoming very interested in the table's centerpiece.

"Second, all of you should know by now that Professor McKinley retired last year along with Mr. Filch." He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. "They owl their love and want to say thanks to all of you who sent them wedding gifts." He sighed. "With Professor McKinley's retirement there came an opening, yet again, in the DADA teaching position." By this time, he had started to pace in front of the teacher's table. "Now this new teacher is not like the ones we've had in the past. Not only does she excel in medical skills, but is also the 2nd best potions master there is. The 1st being our very own Professor Snape, of course." Dumbledore cast a look at Snape, who looked back at him, his face expressionless. "However," Dumbledore continued, "those aren't the most unique qualities about her. You see, she's not as old as you think she is. And, as odd as it may sound, on top of being a teacher, she will also be a student, just like the rest of you are."

The Great Hall suddenly erupted in fervent whispers as everyone tried to guess what the new professor would be like. "Ooh, a young female teacher. I bet you she's hot!" Ron said, bouncing in his seat. (A/N: Ron says 'She's hot' a lot doesn't he.... he must be horny or something...) "I bet you she's very sophisticated for someone her age." Hermione squealed. "Yeah well I bet you she's a big nerd." Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, startled. He was casually picking lint off his school robe.

"Hey! I resent that!" Sheila snapped angrily at him. He looked at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I'm sure you do." Her face fell slightly. "What the hell is your problem, Harry? I haven't been anything but nice to you since the moment we met and you're still an ass towards me!" His head snapped slightly back as if she had just slapped him. "Do you wanna know what my problem is?!" He said, his face red with anger. She nodded. "Yeah. That's kind of why I'm asking." She barked, sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes and, through gritted teeth, said, "My problem is the fact that you-" 

"Have a cat!" Ron interrupted. Sheila threw him a confused look. "A cat?" She asked. "Yeah. Harry hates cats. And you have one, don't you? So that's probably why he's being so bitter towards you." Hermione shook her head. "But Ron, I have a cat and Harry's never acted this way towards me." Ron clapped his hand over her mouth. "Shut up..." He mumbled, then smiled innocently at Sheila. 

Professor McGonagall tapped her glass again. "Settle down, children." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "So, without further a due, I'd like to introduce the newest addition to the Hogwart's staff." He held out his hand, palm up, and flicked his fingers in a come hither kind of way. "Professor Williams, would you please come up here."

Sheila looked coldly at Harry. "Thanks for trying, Ron, but I highly doubt the fact that I have a pet cat is the thing that has made him so upset." Harry returned her cold gaze. "Your damn straight that's not it." Sheila sighed and pushed back her chair. "Where are you going?" Hermione asked. "Away." "Good." Harry spat. "I don't need this from you, Harry." Sheila looked as if she were about to cry, the floating candles making her unshed tears glisten. "Especially not on my first day." 

Harry felt a pang of guilt as she stood up, straightened her robes, and, after throwing a weak smile at Ron and Hermione, walked up to where Dumbledore was waiting patiently. She politely shook his hand and Dumbledore stepped forward, pulling her alongside him. Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, wide-eyed. "Shit. You guys don't think..." His voice trailed off. Hermione gulped. "Yes, Harry. I do."

"Everyone." Dumbledore said. "This is Ms. Sheila Williams." He looked at her through his half-moon spectacles and smiled. She smiled back before he turned to face the people in the Great Hall again. "She's your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Sheila timidly waved. "Hello everyone."

Ron slugged Harry hard on the shoulder. "Ow! Ron! What the hell was that for?" Ron hit him again. "Good one, dumbass. You keep treating her the way you have been and you'll never be that teacher's pet." Hermione, despite the situation, laughed. _'Boys...' _She thought, rolling her eyes.

__ ****

A/N: Were ya'll surprised by the twist? *growls* There seems to be some tension between Harry and Sheila. What's going to happen? Hmm... you'll have to wait and see... Please review! Thanks! 


	4. The Bathroom Fiasco

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to him... (rub it in why don't ya?)

****

A/N: Chapter 4! I'm so proud of myself. This chapter is just a little run-in between Sheila and Harry. 

****

Let Go

Chapter 4:

The Bathroom Fiasco

There was only word you could truly use to describe the beginning-of-the-year feast and that was delicious. During dinner, Sheila and Harry weren't on speaking terms, but were still mature enough to tolerate each other for the sake of an enjoyable meal.

"Ugh, I'm so full." Ron said, holding his bulging stomach. The four stuffed teens were walking (well actually wobbling) slowly towards the Gryffindor Tower. They finally reached it and stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" Hermione, (who was a Prefect this year) stepped forward. "Treacle Pudding." "NO! No more food!" Ron groaned from his place against the wall. The portrait swung open to reveal the entrance to the common room. They crawled in, quietly. 

"Well, I'm off to bed." Sheila and Harry said, simultaneously. Harry glared at Sheila, who in turn, glared back. "Good-night, Ron. Hermione." He said, stiffly, before stomping up to the Boy's Prefect room. (A/N: yeah... I made him a prefect too... although I don't think you can have more than one from each house... oh well...) 

The remaining three stared after him. "Don't worry about him, Sheila." Hermione said. "Yeah. He'll eventually come around." Ron added. Sheila sighed. "I hope so... I'm going to bed." She started up the steps, then turned around. "Aren't you two coming?" Ron and Hermione looked at each other and grinned. "No, we're going to play a quick game of Wizard's Chess." Sheila nodded although she was a tad-bit suspicious. "Ok. Good-night then." "'Night." They called after her.

***************************************************************************

Sheila opened the door to the Girl's Prefect bedroom. (No, she wasn't a Prefect but, as a teacher/student, she had special privileges and was allowed to room with Hermione.) Slipping out of her bulky school clothes, she put on her red and gold striped PJ pants and red tank top. She swept her hair into a clip and, grabbing a towel and her toothbrush, made her way towards the lavish Prefect bathroom.

"What are you doing in here?!" She cried out in surprise. Harry, who was flossing his teeth in front of the only sink in the bathroom, looked at her through the reflection in the mirror. "I happen to be a school prefect. I'm allowed to be in here." He set down the floss and spit. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Annoyed, she placed her hands on her hips. "Well, I happen to be a school teacher." She said in mock-tone. "I'm allowed to be in here too." She sauntered over to the sink and ran her toothbrush under the tap.

"What are you doing?" He asked. "I'm brushing my teeth. What does it look like I'm doing?" She said, her voice as icy as the water she was running her toothbrush under. "It looks to me like you're invading my space. So, if you don't mind, could you step off a little? I was here first." She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked back.

"Ugh, didn't your parents ever teach you how to share?" She asked. "How dare you talk about my parents!!" He yelled, but upon seeing her frightened expression, his face softened a bit. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. It's just... my parents died when I was a baby." He said, quietly. "Mine too." He looked at her, a little surprised, and they smiled weakly at each other. _'We're actually having a pleasant moment together.'_ Sheila thought. She reached for the toothpaste, and (at the exact same moment) so did Harry.

"Excuse you! Let go!" She screamed. She was holding the bottom end of the tube, he had the top, and each of them were tugging hard to gain possession of it. "I was here first, so I should be able to brush my teeth first! So you let go!" "Fine, you greedy little git! Here!" Sheila let go of the toothpaste and Harry stumbled backwards, catching the sink just in time to save him from a painful and embarrassing fall.

"I'm going to bed!" She yelled. "Fine! I am too!" He retorted, throwing the toothpaste in the sink. "Fine! You do that!" "Maybe I will!" They both looked ready to tear each other's heads off. "Aargh!!!" They cried in unison and with that, stomped furiously towards their bedroom and slammed the doors behind them.

***************************************************************************

(A/N: This part is done between Sheila and Harry simultaneously. Their both in their rooms, angry, and are pacing around, yelling at nothing in particular. Got it? Good... on with the story!)

****

Sheila: Can't a girl brush her teeth in peace. God, he's such a-

****

Harry: bitch! She always has something to say. And the way she narrows her eyes at me all the time is enough to make me-

****

Sheila: want to puke. *sigh* Although they are a really pretty shade-

****

Harry: of green. And the way her hair looks good-

****

Sheila: even after the wind has blown through it. *giggle* And the boy is-

****

Harry: funny. I love the way she laughs and her smile is-

****

Sheila: simply gorgeous. *another sigh* I want to be his-

****

Harry: friend, but for some reason she-

****

Sheila: hates me...

They plopped down on their beds, placing a pillow over their faces and, taking a deep breath (with all their anger and frustration vented into it) screamed... loud...

***************************************************************************

(A/N: This part is taking place during the Harry/Sheila unison thingy. Still got it? Good! On with the story!)

Upon hearing the doors slam, Ron and Hermione shook their heads. "Would you look at that? It's only the first day back and Harry has already made a new friend." He chuckled. "Do you think they'll ever end up like us?" She asked as she ran her hand through his red hair. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, their fingers intertwining. "What? You mean in love?" She nodded, then kissed him. *Screams from upstairs* They pulled away from each other and smirked "Nah!"

****

A/N: Ooh... sparks are flying between the Boy-Who-Lived and Sheila... No, wait or are those hexes?... Anyway, you know what to do now, review please! Thanks! (Oh, and yes Ron and Hermione are together in case you didn't figure that out...)


End file.
